


remembrance

by modesto



Category: Naruto
Genre: @canon meet me in the dennys parking lot in 15 minutes for an ass-kicking, F/F, Fluff, Pining, Requited Unrequited Love, Romance, Strong Female Characters, Strong Haruno Sakura, Yamanaka Ino-centric, does not end that way, harold..., starts off canon-compliant, yes i am changing tenses. no i do not care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22784254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modesto/pseuds/modesto
Summary: Ino remembers when Sakura was a little pink wisp of a thing, stuttering every other word and hiding her forehead behind long choppy bangs. She was every princess that every storybook prince wanted to swoop in and rescue. Ami and her little gang knew that, of course, which is why they picked on her for something as inane as the size of her forehead. Ino remembers chasing them off, feeling the rush in her veins as she stepped up and offered Sakura a pretty red ribbon to hold back her bangs.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Yamanaka Ino, Haruno Sakura/Yamanaka Ino
Comments: 3
Kudos: 185





	remembrance

Ino remembers when Sakura was a little pink wisp of a thing, stuttering every other word and hiding her forehead behind long choppy bangs. She was every princess that every storybook prince wanted to swoop in and rescue. Ami and her little gang knew that, of course, which is why they picked on her for something as inane as the size of her forehead. Ino remembers chasing them off, feeling the rush in her veins as she stepped up and offered Sakura a pretty red ribbon to hold back her bangs.

Ino remembers Sakura as her best friend, her partner in crime, attached at the hip. They were young, bright-eyed, and thoroughly convinced that kunoichi life started and ended with flower arranging and know-it-all test scores. Ino and Sakura were paper kunoichi.

Ino remembers the first time she noticed Sakura’s infatuation with Sasuke. He was all chubby cheeks and big dark eyes and permanent frowns, enough to attract any 9-year-old girl. At the time, Ino didn’t understand the red-hot knots in her stomach whenever she thought of Sakura making eyes at him. She had been cutting flowers more violently than usual, and her father had instigated an awkward conversation about the futility of childhood crushes that had somehow only served to inflame Ino’s frustration. So she started a silly rumor—Sasuke liked girls with long hair, not the little shoulder-length bob that Sakura was sporting. If Sakura didn’t think Sasuke was interested in her, she would give it up, right? She and Ino would be inseparable again. It had the opposite effect, and Sakura began growing out her hair, now convinced that Ino kept her hair long because that’s what Sasuke liked.

That was the beginning of the end. They grew distant, and Sakura began focusing more and more on Sasuke and less and less on Ino. It came to a head one afternoon, Sakura declaring them rivals, and turning her back to Ino for the first time. Ino remembers the gut-wrenching feeling of loss, and then anger at Sakura’s dismissal of her—her!—the one that had built up Sakura’s confidence from scratch. So she went along with it. Sasuke was attractive enough, for a boy. It wasn’t hard for Ino to convince herself that he was desirable—the end goal—and Sakura was simply in the way.

Ino remembers seeing Sakura emerging scarred but triumphant from the Forest of Death, supporting Sasuke with one arm and Naruto with another, her long roseate locks sawed off unevenly around her chin. There was a small patch missing near her right ear, as if someone had been yanking her around by the hair, and Ino found herself overcome with the same fury and protectiveness she felt when she first saw Ami poking fun at Sakura’s forehead. But _Sasuke_ was there, and as always, Sasuke came first.

Ino remembers Sakura approaching her, wounds bandaged, and asking her to _please_ put their rivalry to the side for a moment and even out her hair. Ino remembers making a fuss, but eventually sitting Sakura down seiza in front of her, a pair of sharp scissors in hand. She had wetted Sakura’s choppy ends with her own emergency water, running her fingers through the soft pink hair. It was tangled and dirty after days in the Forest of Death, but still soft and faintly smelling of strawberries. Ino spent longer than she needed to, combing it out before gently _snip-snipping_ until Sakura’s hair fell evenly around her chin. She brushed the stray hairs off the nape of Sakura’s neck, fingers tingling and blood pumping with adrenaline that she dismissed as excitement for the next phase of the exam.

Ino remembers their fight, if one could call it that, in the preliminary battle. She remembers the triumph she felt completing her trademark Mind Transfer Jutsu, only to be unceremoniously forced back into her own body by Sakura’s indomitable will and furious subconscious. She remembers being knocked out as her own fist collided with Sakura’s soft cheek, waking up to hear that they had both failed to advance to the next phase of the exam. Ino remembers the shame she felt at letting down her family and her team, and the relief that _at least Sakura had failed with her_.

Ino barely remembers the next couple years. They blur past her in a series of unexpected deaths that harden her into a kunoichi worth fearing. Her team was in shambles after Asuma’s death, and her efforts to dig Shikamaru out of the black hole of his depression were impeded by her own realization that she didn’t know what she was living for. Chouji was an unexpected source of comfort—the glue that held Team Asuma together after the loss of their nominal leader. And from afar, Ino watched Sakura. She watched as Tsunade of the Sannin molded her into the most capable frontline medic in the Elemental Nations, who could neutralize poisons made by S-Rank missing-nin. She watched Sakura demolish a training ground with one chakra-infused fist and _blushed_.

Ino remembers the Fourth Shinobi War vividly. After all, it was the worst 48 hours of her life. She remembers stretching her clan’s jutsu across miles to sync with her father’s mind. She remembers the horrifying feeling of her own dread compounded with her father’s as the Juubi exhaled a Bijuu ball the size of the 44th training ground. She remembers feeling her father’s pain as if it was her own. She remembers not even having the time to say goodbye. And then, like an avenging angel, she remembers Sakura facing the enemy alongside her teammates, all whip-corded muscle and fierce determination. The massive slug summon behind her and the diamond seal on her forehead were testaments to her abilities. Ino had looked at Sakura’s back and thought to herself, _how did she get that strong?_ And then Ino reminded herself that Sakura wasn’t the only one to advance over the past two years, and she was the goddamn heiress of the Yamanaka clan, so Ino planted her feet and transferred her consciousness into the most powerful being in all creation.

Ino doesn’t remember the Infinite Tsukuyomi. According to Kakashi it was meant to be a dream—the best dream—but Ino can’t imagine anything better than hearing that Sakura had _punched a goddess in the face._

Ino barely remembers her father’s funeral. The week after the end of the war was filled with them, and to her shame, some of them began to blend together. Instead, Ino remembers the village-wide ceremony for the fallen that required a whole new memorial stone to be planted next to the original. She remembers the pit in her stomach rising into her chest when Sakura took her hand and squeezed.

Ino clearly remembers the day that Sakura rejected Sasuke, because it was the best day of her life. He had the audacity to ask Sakura to marry him after nearly killing her (--how many times? Shikamaru solemnly informed her it was twice) and frankly, if Sakura had agreed to be with him, Ino would have made a fuss. She was good at that. And if Sasuke showed his smarmy face around Sakura ever again she would make sure to—

“Babe? You’re making a weird face.”

Ino turned her head to the side and looked into sleepy green eyes. Sakura’s hair was mussed up and a thin line of drool was dried to her chin. She had never looked more beautiful. Ino smiled and leaned in to press a chaste kiss against the corner of her mouth.

Sakura spluttered, “You’re getting your hair in my mouth!”

Ino giggled and brushed Sakura’s own pink locks out of her eyes, trailing her hand down her neck and onto her wife’s tanned, muscular bicep. Sakura smushed a pillow in Ino’s face, muttering something about _copping a feel this early in the morning_.

“You have morning breath, _Forehead_ ,” Ino teased.

“So do you, _Ino-pig_.”

Ino leaned in, pressing her forehead against Sakura’s own before tilting her chin and smooching her wife’s Byakugou seal.

“That’s Mrs. Haruno to you,” she whispered, feeling Sakura’s lips quirk up against her cheek.

“I should get up, it’s getting late,” murmured Sakura, pulling away and stretching her toned arms up above her head.

Ino unabashedly watched her every move as Sakura rolled out of bed and pulled on her robes. She finally followed Sakura into the kitchen, bare feet padding against the cool hardwood. Sakura took one look at her and snorted.

“Put on some clothes.”

Ino grinned saucily. “You’re the one that took them off, why don’t you put them back on for me.”

“Tempting,” said Sakura, eyeing her wife’s figure, “but Shizune really will be on my case if I’m late.”

Ino sighed dramatically and leaned in to give Sakura a lingering kiss on the cheek.

“It can’t be helped, I suppose,” she said, “remember not to work yourself too hard, _Hokage-sama_.”

And as she steps into her office in the Hokage Tower overlooking the morning bustle of the village she loves, Sakura remembers.

**Author's Note:**

> Harold, they're lesbians...


End file.
